


You Spin Me Round

by Yngvildr the Voracious (Yngvildr_the_Voracious)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game), Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Child Neglect, M/M, Original Female Character - Freeform, Past Child Abuse, Stranger Things AU, bottom McCree ftw, upside down - Freeform, warning for homophobic slurs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-14
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-08-31 01:46:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8558422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yngvildr_the_Voracious/pseuds/Yngvildr%20the%20Voracious
Summary: A record playing backwards, an arrow flying to the sky and never landing. A Maths teacher is stuck on the worst babysitting job ever.A Sheriff is forced to face his nightmares with the most overbearing extended adoptive family in the world.    Daddy has come for you.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta-ed  
> Yet another AU with Overwatch characters  
> Liberties were taken with America, don't hesitate to point them out to me

_1958, Jornada del Muerto Desert, New Mexico_

 

 

He opened his eyes and he was there. Daddy. With his smooth black beard he liked to touch. Daddy would let him. Smile when he did so.

 

Unless he wouldn’t do as Daddy said. Then, no matter what he did, grunted, cried, Daddy would not take him in his arms and he would order the men in white to carry him to the padded closet.

 

He hated the padded closet. It always made him cry. He never knew how long he was there. In his room, he would have the comings and goings of the doctors and the food. The food was good in his room. In the padded closet, he had none.

 

When the padded closet was over, Daddy would not wait for him. Never. Instead, it was more men and women in white and he would go back to the padded closet if he didn’t do as Daddy had said.

 

So he did as Daddy said. Even kill the cat with his eyes. Because then, Daddy would enter the room and open his arms. And, even if it was wrong, even if he was hurt in his head and his nose bled, he would always go and let Daddy’s big arms encircle him, rub his face in his black beard and sit on his big strong legs.

 

He hoped one day, he grew up to be as strong as Daddy. Maybe then Daddy would be proud.

 

*

**

*

 

_1984, Radium Springs, New Mexico_

 

 

Jesse woke up with a start, feeling like his lungs were filled with water and his nose too. No air could pass. He choked and flailed like this for several minutes until his brain caught up with his body.

 

He was no longer eleven years old and drowning in the family’s pool. He was thirty seven, he was the sheriff of a small town, he was in his bed. Alone, as usual.

 

He looked at the still warm pillow near him and sighed.

 

Of course, he had left. In fact, Jesse was almost grateful for how silent he could be, the damn ninja. No one in town needed to know the sheriff was queer for the hot new Maths teacher. He’d have to give up his badge for sure. His lover would suffer worse, he was too fresh a face in this town, too new, _too foreign_.  

 

Jesse rose from the bed, shaking the sleep and some of the sex, not quite ready to let go of all of it, yet. Hanzo’s arms had been strong and warm, if he closed his eyes, Jesse could still smell him in the air, tickling his nose and nethers.

 

How he wished he could let himself be comforted by those arms in the wake of that old bad dream.

 

Jesse did the only thing he could do at four am on a Tuesday. He showered, dressed in his jeans and flannel, warding the chilly November air with his coat, and entered his brand new Cressida. The best remedy against a nightmare was still Mommy’s hot chocolate, he thought as he turned the engine on.

 

*

**

*

 

Hanzo entered the small house silently and with care. He didn’t want to wake Genji up, after all. It was five in the morning, he still had an hour of sleep he had to prepare for school. So did Hanzo.

 

He did not look forward to teaching teenagers Geometry and Algebra with the indulgences of the night before still making his body shudder.

 

In pleasure, in fear, the thrill of the forbidden. And something else he had last felt when he was first gently, but firmly asked to leave Japan with his much littler brother.

 

Hanzo started to wonder if he had feelings for Jesse McCree, the town’s sheriff, as he ascended the stairs, only to be interrupted by the sound of tables crashing and incoherent yelling.

 

Hanzo first stopped in the closet where they stored their gear. Given the close quarters, he chose the old wakizashi that was meant for Genji instead of his usual katana (he couldn’t bear to wield it anymore, but to defend his brother, he would do anything).

 

He opened the door with a strong kick, making the knob and the lock burst under the pressure, prepared to strike against any cat burglar.

 

Only to find the burglar were in fact four teenagers playing that stupid make believe game. _At five in the morning_.

 

“Hanzo! I… Thought you would stay the night…” Genji started, his smile huge and uneasy.

 

He knew he was in trouble. Hanzo, glanced at the gathered children.

 

Fareeha Amari, Jesse’s stepsister, looked too fascinated by his weapon to realise what was going on. On the other side of the spectrum, Lucio Dos Santos looked appropriately horrified and Hana Song, the little Korean girl from the poor mobile homes neighbourhoods at the edge of town, was hiding behind him, her eyes big as saucers.

 

And in the middle of this was Hanzo's little brother, Genji Shimada, looking like he could explain it all, with a blanket hanging over his thin frame and a poorly made paper mask in the shape of a traditional kabuki demon's over his head.

 

Teenagers, playing, three hours before they were all expected at Radium Springs Junior High, when all Hanzo wanted was hot water and his bed. What a nightmare.

 

Carefully, with all the dignity he could muster, Hanzo sheathed the blade, making absolutely no sound.

 

“Now. Five. A.M.” he snarled, not trusting himself with full sentences. “Five thirty, my shower is finished. You. All. Gone. _Wakarimasu ka?_ ”

 

Four children nodded gravely and Hanzo turned around, carefully put the wakizashi back under lock and key, and made for the shower.

 

Under the hot water spray, he finally let go of all the anger and worry. It took him a whole hour.

 

*

**

*

 

Jesse arrived at the Amari household in a few minutes. As he expected, the lights were on. Mom was awake, for sure. When he parked behind her own battered car, he was worried to see her ran toward him, panic in her eyes. She still was in steel gray pajamas, matching her hair.

 

“Jesse? Is Fareeha alright?” she immediately shouted.

 

“I don’t know…” Jesse genuinely answered. “Something wrong?”

 

“She went to see the Shimada boy tonight. I heard her with her stupid walkie talkie, he called around ten and she ran from home with her bike. I figured she’d be reasonable, but she hasn’t come back yet! I tried to call their home, but Mr Shimada wouldn’t answer, I thought maybe they went out there in the first place because the big brother was out of town...”

 

Jesse refrained to tell his mother he knew exactly where Hanzo had been (up his ass, deliciously massaging his prostate with his dick and whispering sweet nothings in his ears), because a mother did not need to know what her son was doing in his bedroom.

 

“When was the last time you called?” he offered instead. “He’s probably a heavy sleeper. Babysitting the whole town ain’t easy, Mom. He has to take care of all those kids, at home and at work… That kind of thing demand a lot of endurance…”

 

Ana lifted her eyebrow at her son. _She knew_. Jesse trusted her with his life, but saying it out loud on her front lawn was dangerous. He simply led her back into her home and called the Shimada number. Was it too early to call back? It wasn’t for himself anyway. Ana was already busy fixing him a hot chocolate, he could call. As a concerned sibling, of course.

 

“Hello?” the voice said at the other end of the wire.

 

“Hello, sorry to bother you so early, Mr. Shimada, but it’s Jesse McCree. I’m calling from my mother’s home. Turns out my little stepsister decided to break curfew and my Mama, well, she mighty worried for her only blood child, y’know… Any chance you’ve seen little Fareeha? I seem to remember Genji and her get along?”

 

Ana put a mug of hot chocolate in front of Jesse who took it in his hands.

 

“Yes. I saw Fareeha. Since it’s quite early, and the road is safe, I simply sent her back on her bike, Lucio as well, if any other worried mother asks. I’ll drive Hana Song, though, she’s a bit upset and she lives a bit farther…”

 

“I’ll be sure to tell Mr and Mrs Song if I see either or both of them come to my office this morning.” Jesse said.

 

Behind him, the door opened and Ana immediately started his mother start to yell in a mix of English, Arabic and Spanish.

 

“I’ll let you drive our little local diva around, Mr Shimada.” he said, chuckling. “Seems the bird has come back to the nest. Time for a good old fashioned scolding.”

 

And before he could lose the guts, he added.

 

“Hope you had a good time last night. Would be nice if it were to happen again…”

 

A silence. Ana and Fareeha were still busy arguing. His insides were churning something fierce. Jesse tried to keep a straight face and ride the feeling. 

 

“Indeed.” Jesse heard after what felt like a lifetime.

 

“See you later, then, Mr Shimada.” he breathed in relief.

 

“See you later, Sheriff.” he heard the other man answer, lightly. 

 

*

**

*

 

Hana seemed extremely upset. Hanzo felt a bit guilty when he saw her pale, sullen face upon seeing Genji and her waiting, fidgeting in the couch in the living room. He knew things weren’t easy at home for the girl. Her parents argued. She was usually left alone. She lagged behind in everything school related until she was threatened to be banned from competing with the track team, a sport at which she excelled.

 

She was also Asian, and Hanzo knew how hard it was to be in this remote American town. So when Genji told him how she had also spent about an hour in the toilet with Fareeha at one point during the night, Hanzo decided it would be best the girl be accompanied home, _directly to her mother_ , by an adult.

 

“Unless you’d like to go straight to school in this state.” he asked when she looked reluctant. “Your mother will help.” he tried to say, not knowing at all if Mrs Song would indeed be helpful.

 

She would be more helpful than any man, especially Hanzo, anyway.

 

It wasn’t a long drive, but the mobile homes were at the end of a sinuous road which circled the one and only stretch of woods in this area for miles. The rest, was the entrance to the Jornada del Muerto Desert, its dead volcano, and a government military complex near it. Hanzo didn’t really trust a thirteen year old alone on a bike to get there and go back quickly enough to be on time at school.

 

During the ride, Hana had been quite in a hurry to dispel the idea that she was helpless, saying she could run miles and miles, that she knew to take care of Rabbit (the name she gave her bike, apparently), that she thought fighting with katana was really cool and that she would be in class in top shape in an hour or so.

 

Hanzo didn’t know if he, himself, was going to be in top shape in an hour or so, and not only because he had secured a third date with what was supposed to be a one night stand in the middle of the logistics of raising his rebellious fourteen year old brother.

 

“Look. My mother won’t help me. Maybe I’ll just get home, get my school bag and then take the matter to the school nurse…” Hana suddenly proposed. “We could all drive there, with you I feel safe!” she added, batting her long dark lashes.

 

“We’ll see with your mother first.” Hanzo said, trying not to laugh at the poor attempt at seduction from the teenager. Even considering his secret, he found the attempt at seduction to be just hilarious… And maybe a little bit weird. She was thirteen for fuck's sake!

 

“My mom will just ground me.” she groaned, frustration and apprehension clear in her voice.

 

Hana shifted in her seat. Hanzo vaguely remembered his mother doing the same during _that time of the month_ and wished he had packed a hot water bottle. Mrs Song probably had one, but Hanzo did keep a bottle of drinking water and some Panadol in the car, in case Genji’s old injuries started to ache again. Could he give her that? This was starting to give him a headache. Maybe he should take the medication for himself.

 

The sun had just started to rise, now, cars should start to pour out from the mobile home neighbourhood and yet, Hanzo saw no one on the opposite lane from him, driving to the miserable jobs the castaways of Radium Springs managed to snag. It was strange.

 

Hanzo started to see some additional merits to the teen’s plan.

 

“Alright.” he said, parking next to the high wooden fences marking entrance of the lot. “Go get your things and be quick about it.”

 

Hana doesn’t have to be told twice. She sliped from the car. Hanzo, upon seeing her small frame, worried about how much she was usually given to eat before he remembered how lucky and privileged he was. She ran like a rabbit, so he expected to see her back quickly.

 

Hanzo’s mind drifted as he waited. This night had been beautiful and he had been loathed to leave the bed of his gruff American sheriff, the way he arched beneath him, how he looked beautiful despite the adorable belly he had. Hanzo looked at his own. As an athletics oriented man, he had been very careful to not let himself go to such waste, but he wondered if he had been too harsh on himself, especially since they had moved to America.

 

He had found a shooting range willing to put up archery practice targets, though. That’s where they had met, actually. Sheriff McCree had been curious. Mr Shimada had been wary. An invitation to show him "put his weapon to good use" had been misunderstood. They had spent their first date in the little woods, the ones just behind Hanzo’s car. He had brought his regular competition bow, the kyudo bow and the wooden thing he had made himself when he had grown curious about the original practice of archery. The first thing he had read in America had been about European medieval practices in Archery and how they evolved to the stationary shooting used nowadays. Hanzo had practiced trick shots with Jesse all night. They had enjoyed themselves, unexpectedly. For some reason, they agreed to meet once again, this time on Jesse’s terms. It helped that he lived alone since his divorce. 

 

Hanzo heard a scream. Snapping out of his reverie, he started the car’s engine and opened the passenger door, ready to drive away if Hana came and needed protection.

 

The girl rounded the bend, running even faster than should be possible for a girl her size. From where he sat, the teacher could see her eyes wide in terror. Behind her, a monster out of Hanzo’s worst nightmares was similarly running after her.

 

Hanzo’s heart stilled. He could hardly breathe and yet, he managed to scramble out of the car and open up the trunk. It was still there. Of course it wasn’t his forty five pound longbow and his stainless steel arrows, but rather the one he had used the other day to show Jesse medieval bow shooting. Hanzo scowled but took it anyway.

 

The wooden contraption was light and rather than using a quiver he held the pointed wooden sticks he made himself in the same hand he holds the bow in. He was still unused to the lack of clicker. With the added stress (she was running to him, running fast, but for how long, on the uneven ground littered with rocks and pebbles and detritus), he loosed it too early. Hana was not harmed, Hanzo remembered to breathe.

 

The creature yelled.

 

_It doesn’t have a face. Oh, Gods, it doesn’t have a face._

 

Hana went for the car. The creature, dripping blood from an appendage that probably could be called an arm, did too. The screeching sound of nails ( _claws_ ) on metal made Hanzo want to turn around and run.

 

Instead, he nocked a second projectile, drew and set loose a second arrow quickly, not waiting to hear a proper click that would not come, despite how unnatural it felt.

 

“ _WOODS_ !” he yelled, waiting until Hana disappeared behind him to lose a third, aiming at its head ( _It doesn’t have a face, ancestors, Gods, of every pantheon, it doesn’t have a fucking face!_ ).

  
The third arrow struck as the beast lunged, Hanzo didn’t wait to see if it was injured badly enough. ( _Such a point blank shot should have killed it, but it wails and it doesn’t have a face!_ ) Hanzo turned around and followed Hana’s trail in the wispy stretch of woods behind.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just googled Police ranks in New Mexico : this falls in the “took liberties with America category”. Jesse is a sheriff. Period.

_ 1958 Jornada Del Muerto Desert, New Mexico.  _

 

He felt like he was drowning. But Daddy wouldn’t let him drown, right? The big monster was here and he was in the tub, water pressing on every side, up and down and left and right. He wanted to let go of the metal bars and his legs were cramped from trying not to run. He knew he was in the tub, he just needed his mind to catch up with the small part of his brains that could still register the real world’s whispers. 

 

It was drowned out by his fear, though.  _ The monster is after him. The monster is after him. _ It didn’t have eyes, just a mouth and it was ready to eat him whole. In fact, when his left hand wasn’t gripping the cold metal of the Dunker anymore, he screamed, for real this time. The helmet, heavy, made it ring in his ears. His arm hurt. He knew he was bleeding from more places than just his nose this time. 

 

When they drew him from the tub, he was clutching his left arm and still screaming. Daddy held him and for a second, he felt like he was alright. _ Daddy’s here. He will protect him from the monster _ . It took a few second to realise he wasn’t actually drowning though. He was gaping like a fish. Maybe that was why Daddy looked so disappointed.  He was weak and little and scrawny and there was so much blood on his face, he couldn’t make the difference between the thick liquid and the salty water of the tub. 

 

For a moment, he thought he was going to be sent to the Padded Closet, with how Daddy was looking at him, but Mo came and whispered to his ear and Daddy’s face softened. He smiled and he said.  _ Ok, I’ll cut the kid some slack.  _

 

He looked up to Mo’s face and smiled in gratitude as the tall man with yellow hair took his hand and carried him away. 

 

*

**

*

 

_ 1984, Radium Springs, New Mexico _

  
  


Jesse didn’t know exactly how or when he fell asleep on the couch, but thankfully, his mother was quick to reassure him that he was in the reality, not drowning in a pool of blood. The thrashing stopped quickly and thankfully, Fareeha saw none of it. 

 

“What time is it?” he asked, still feeling out of sorts. 

 

“You’re asking me?” Ana smirked. 

 

Jesse sighed. He wasn’t in the mood for playful jokes about his childhood fascination with the motion of the sun in the sky. So he at his wrist instead, finding black numbers instead of his red and white watch hands. It was almost ten and this wasn’t his watch. Hanzo must have grabbed his by mistake and Jesse, in his confused state, must have grabbed the one the Maths teacher left instead. 

 

“It’s not high noon, at least.” he mumbled as he refused the coffee his mother was offering with a shake of his head.

 

He’d have a shittier but stronger one at the office. Fawkes’ motor oil could wake the dead. He needed it. 

 

The succession of two nightmares bothered the Sheriff of Radium Springs, but with the clock ticking, he realised he had to drive back home, put on his actual uniform and grab something to eat to help Fawkes’ boiled dirt slide down his throat with minimum damage to his stomach. 

 

He didn’t have time to go back home, but he had extra uniforms at work for this exact purpose, so he simply kissed his mom goodbye as she herself drove Fareeha urgently to Radium Springs Middle School.

 

As he drove, Jesse realised that, next year, the girl would have to go to high school all the way to Las Cruces. He wondered if he could save more money to send her to El Paso or Albuquerque. Give her more chances to have a good life. He parked his car on his usual spot, trying to ignore the buzzing that started to crowd his ears. 

 

When he entered his office and saw one of the inhabitants of the mobile homes near the desert crying softly. Jesse thought that such a big man should not cry, but it was hardly his place to actually tell anyone, especially if he came to report something horrible. 

 

He felt a bit grimy, despite the shower. Impromptu naps would do that to a person. He carefully tucked his tank top and shirt into his brown pants and, when he realised the buzzing in his ears wouldn’t stop, he opened his drawer and took a Fiorinal before facing the music. 

 

“Hello Sheriff!” he heard Fawkes say when Jesse exited his office. 

 

Jesse hated his big blue eyes and his sly smile, but he’d rather have lazy Fawkes around than brutal Rutledge. The taciturn Samoan vet had come back from Vietnam haunted and sometimes, it showed. 

 

“Coffee?” Fawkes offered, holding the coffee pot next to his face, presently cut in two by his yellow crocodile smile. 

 

“Thank you kindly, Sergeant Fawkes.” Jesse thanked him. 

 

He always tried to be nice to the Sergeant, despite how much they hit on his nerves, Fawkes with his slyness, Rutledge with his jumpiness (even though it was hardly his fault). Fawkes seemed to be in the same kind of mindset, thinking he could cash out favours later. He learned it wouldn’t work on Sheriff McCree, but he was still his superior, so he figured too much flattery and good behaviour was better than not enough. After all, Jesse could still report Fawkes on the military grade demolition supplies in his shed to the captain in Las Cruces…

 

“So, what do we have today.” Jesse asked as he raised the mug of tar to his lips, scanning the lobby, empty as usual, aside from the big man with white hair. He looked like a sick puppy, left to die in the rain after it had been kicked for good measure. His arms were built like tree trunks and the only thing matching their impressive strength were his powerful thighs and still, the old man, his white thin hair limp and greasy, looked like a deflated balloon. 

 

Only when the man raised his head did Jesse recognise him as Once-Knight Reinhardt, as the kids of Wheel Town called him. His right eye was scarred over, some people said in a bar fight, others in the war, Jesse thought the latter fit best. He lived there and usually gave children sweets. Mothers were scared because an old man living alone in a mobile home and giving sweets to children made their predator bells ring a little bit too hard. Jesse had often been called to investigate only to find the old man tutoring a kid or the other with homework or regaling them with ludicrous stories of knights saving damsels in distress. Jesse had definitely forgotten him and ignored any such ludicrous calls after he found the man cooking some German pastries and distributing it to the kids. He didn’t even fine the man for the open flame near the dry woods in the middle of summer.

 

“I am here.” Reinhardt mumbled. 

 

Now that was strange. Jesse remembered a booming voice, accented yes, but always enthusiastic and fun. He started to worry. Had anything happened to a kid he liked? Life was rough there. He wouldn’t be too surprised if a kid was roughened up one time too many. If blood was spilt, Jesse would have to intervene. 

 

“It’s about little Hana Song.” the big man sobbed. “In the morning, she always wakes up extra early to avoid her father’s… Well, let’s say his morning breath. She hasn’t come...”

 

Jesse instantly felt a burden lift off his back. 

 

“Oh, this. I know where she was last. Seems the Shimada boy, the Maths teacher’s son - Or nephew I don’t remember - made fast friends with her and she sneaked out. Spent the night with him, Fareeha and Lucio playing this game of theirs. She was upset when they woke Mr Shimada up and he told me he’d accompany her straight home…”

 

“That’s the problem, Sheriff McCree…” Reinhardt pleaded, suddenly sitting up, his form formidable and towering over Jesse. “I saw a car at the entrance of the mobile home. It was mangled by some… Some beast or something of that kind. I was thinking maybe something from the woods might have surprised someone, but then I realised… All the cars in the area were still parked near their owner’s homes!”

 

Jesse, puzzled could only ask him to repeat. 

 

_ Wheel Town was deserted and every beaten up dumpster with an engine was still in the camp, waiting for their owners’ to drive them to work.  _

 

“And one of them… I didn’t recognise it. It’s a black Ford Escort, it was just outside the gate, as if it had just parked here to drop someone off, but it had deep claw marks in it!” Reinhardt continued, each word making Jesse’s heart beat faster.  _ He knew this car. _

 

“And the strangest thing is: I found these wooden sticks near it, home made arrows, like this...” Reinhardt added, handing over a sharpened stick in two parts, adorned with white goose feathers. 

 

Jesse interrupted him there and grabbed the broken projectile immediately. It felt gooey, as if the black spunk covering it was trying to stick to his hand.

 

“Come with me, show me that car.” the Sheriff commanded. 

 

*

**

*

 

Hanzo had never ran for so long or so far in his whole life. The dropping temperature helped. Hana before him, never lagging, too. They only stopped when he stumbled on some sort of root and he fell face first in a puddle of ice cold stagnant water. Without meaning it, he swallowed a mouthful of it. His tastebuds and his exhaustion made it even more nerve wracking for him to retch it all back along with the toast he had munched on before deciding to accompany the little girl home. 

 

“Mr Shimada?” a little voice asked somewhere above him. 

 

Another little voice was starting to talk in his head. She’s your student, your responsibility. You’re the adult. Get a grip. Get up. Check the perimeter. Was their  _ pursuer _ still there? It was so dark right now, machinally Hanzo checked his wristwatch. He took the wrong one. Feeling the dampness in him, a mistake, made in a hurry to go home to check on Genji, (also,  _ not get caught _ ). He slowly rose to his feet and took stock of his surroundings.

 

It was dark, which unnerved Hanzo. Both of them were athletic, but they couldn’t possibly have run all day. There was also the way the air felt moist, smelling of decay and dead bodies. It made Hanzo’s stomach lurch again. It didn’t make any sense. It was as if they had ran into a whole new other world, left arid New Mexico behind to enter a world of death and rot. Hana’s little feet made splotching sounds in the muddy black grey puddles. 

 

He only realised he was shivering when he felt two slim arms slip around his midriff and a small head press against his chest. She was hot, feverish even. Seeing how the cold, dark looking trees covered in grey fungus and vines, he figured huddling up for warmth wasn’t a bad idea. 

 

“Come on, we must stay on the move.” Hanzo told the girl, ignoring the pang in his heart when he looked at the unfamiliar watch hands reading eleven. 

 

His first plan was to navigate the oppressive dark forest back to their starting point. Hopefully, with his car, they’d be able to go home. The trees loomed above them, but Hanzo did his best to ignore the dread building at the bottom of his stomach. Hana didn’t let her hand go of his arm, loosely holding his elbow. Hanzo counted his arrows. He’d have to take back the ones he shot earlier. 

 

However, when they reached the edge of the woods and of the settlement (Wheel Town, Hana called it), there was no car. No stray arrows. In fact, the camp looked as dreadfully grey and dark as the forest had been, the New Mexico sun hidden behind a dark veil that didn’t even look like proper clouds, but rather as if someone had simply covered the Earth with an iron dome. 

 

“The car is gone, Mr Shimada.” Hana squeaked. 

 

Be strong. Be strong for her. She’s your student, your responsibility.

 

“We’ll walk.” Hanzo said. “We can’t miss school.” he tried to add on a stern professorial tone. However, it failed him, breaking in the middle like a too thin bridge. 

 

“We’re not in Radium Springs anymore, are we, Mr Shimada?”  Hana timidly asked. 

 

Hanzo, lacking an appropriate answer for the young girl, decided to turn into Wheel Town. She needed food in her. 

 

The only thing that wasn’t rotten or crawling with leeches and worms the size of his hand seemed to be freshly baked bread and German pastries, looking like gold in a sea of greys and blacks. Hanzo took two and gave the three remaining to Hana. 

 

“I hope I can see Once Knight Reinhardt. He’s the one who bakes them.” she murmured around the food before ravenously gulping it down. 

 

They didn’t find any water, but Hana said it was ok if she drank a bit of the soiled one. Hanzo worried, but she didn’t puke like he did or fall sick immediately. They would have to see. 

 

They rested in this Reinhardt’s mobile home for a while. Hanzo admired the decor. Knights, princesses, German military paraphernalia, including a silver pin next to the bed resting atop a well worn book with Hebrew writings on the cover. 

 

“I always eat with Reinhardt when my dad comes home in the morning… He always prepares this. Sometimes they’re cold because he doesn’t know if he’ll be back in time in the morning after his night shift.” Hana says as she looks at one tasty bun. “When you came home late this morning, I…”

 

Hanzo’s hand quickly reached for her shoulder. 

 

“You don’t need to explain anything. Eat. You’ll need the strength.” he told her. 

 

Their bellies somehow full, they started the long walk toward the city of Radium Springs proper and after encountering nothing alive, nothing colourful aside from the German vet’s cooking, they knew their world has turned upside down. 

 

*

**

*

 

“I don’t understand, the car was just here. As were the arrows, you saw it, how it was snapped and stained!”

 

Jesse was inclined to believe the man. He had brought the arrow, after all. 

 

One Knight Reinhardt was an old man… How old was he? Eighty? More? Jesse knew he was a vet, and despite him being on the other side, he respected that. There was still the possibility that he imagined things. Or that he worried too much and the car was gone because Hanzo brought the girl somewhere safe. Like school, or even Las Cruces’ General Hospital. A long drive, but a safe road and a safe place. 

 

Also, the inhabitants of Wheel Town seemed to have seen or heard nothing. When interrogated, Mr Song, reeking of alcohol, mumbled with a thick accent (or maybe it was even his mother tongue, for all Jesse knew) and his wife said tersely in English that she must have gone to school. 

 

“Alright, Mr Reinhardt, I’m going to check on the school and we’ll keep you posted.” Jesse told the man. 

 

Jesse usually tried to calm down parents with a soothing hand on their shoulders, but Reinhardt was too tall and he wasn’t exactly a parent. Well, at least the little girl had someone. 

 

Reinhardt offered his thanks and turned his brand new oven on (courtesy of months and months of pocket money and side jobs from the children around). The old man wanted to have pastries with unpronounceable names ready for when Hana dropped by. 

 

_ Sweet man _ . Jesse thought as he climbed back into the police car where Rutledge was smoking a cigarette and listening to some station spewing the latest Billboard Hits, making the Sheriff wince. 

 

“How many times have I told you guys not to mess with the radio?” he grumbled, going for the buttons to tune it back into the police frequency. 

 

He turned the knobs to the familiar number, but static and feedbacks greeted him, making his ears ring. Angry at the noise giving him headaches, Jesse hit it with his palm, hoping it would stop. 

 

“ _ We’re not in Radium Springs anymore, Mr Shimada?”  _

 

The voice coming from the radio made the two police officers jump on their seats. 

 

“You… Sergeant Rutledge, you heard that?”

 

The rotund man flicked his cigarette away, as if he had just burnt his fingers and rolled the window closed without a sound. 

 

Jesse, his heart beating wildly, turned on the engine and drove to town. He left Rutledge at the station, instructing him to start writing the dossier on missing persons and tell Fawkes to check if the Math teacher and the young runner were in class, as they should be.

 

“Oh, hello, Sheriff McCree.” a soft and familiar voice asked as Jesse arrived at the counter. 

 

Little Angela too should be in school, Jesse thought, trying to ignore the growing pain in his head and itching in his nose.

 

“Hey, isn’t this my favourite little pharmacist?” Jesse asked the girl. 

 

“I’m fine.” Angela answered. “Do you need me to call my father? Your nose is bleeding. Are you ok? Have you been in a fight? You would need to show this to a doctor.” the blonde girl told him, showing him the blood on his shirt.

 

“Yes. Your father. That’s a good idea, angel.” Jesse managed to say through the lump in his throat. 

 

He tried to breathe through his nose, but Angela was right, he had started to bleed and each time he inhaled a drop blood, it ruined his concentration. Instead, he took his old kerchief and wiped his nose while trying to do the calming exercises with his mouth instead. 

 

He could almost feel the water pressing around his sides, despite standing upright in a mostly empty drugstore. 

 

“Ah, you’re here.” Mr Morrison said. 

 

Little Angela was by his side and Jesse hesitated. Such a young child didn’t need to see him in such a state. 

 

“I was wondering if you still had my usual.” Jesse asked. “You know, from back in the day.”

 

Mr Morrison turned to his step-daughter. 

 

“Hey, here’s a twenty dollars, go buy yourself something.”

 

Angela frowned but politely thanked her father before walking away. 

 

Only when they heard the bell did Morrison grab Jesse’s arm and dragged him behind the counter, shoving a light in his eye.

 

“Stop this, would you, Jack!” Jesse growled.

 

“How long?”

 

“This morning.”

 

“Headaches?”

 

“And nightmares… Someone disappeared. Two someones, actually. I heard them in the radio.” Jesse exclaimed, pushing the old man away. 

 

Jack Morrison straightened. When he did that, he towered over Jesse and the man forgot all about the affable pharmacist who had all but raised him. Instead, there was a cold man who betrayed nothing. A statue with a stare that, if it could shoot nails, would pin you on the nearest wall. 

 

“Anything else? The nightmares. Any other thing that came in them?”

 

“No.” Jesse said. “Except… Well… The water. It tasted salty.”

 

If it was important, his father didn’t show it. He zipped the bag of drugs and tossed it to Jesse who caught it in his arms. It was heavy. 

 

“Is that why Mom got a divorce? Tired of having you throwing shit at her?”

 

“Shut up, kid and go hide that thing before someone calls the Sheriff a sick and frail thing.”

 

Jesse knew his way to the backdoor. When he got a call from Fawkes that neither Shimada or Miss Song were at school his stomach churned, almost rejecting the medicine. He clamped his hand on his mouth and forced them down his throat. He would need all of himself for this case. 

 

No voices. No drowning.

  
_ No Dunker. No salt. _


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbetaed as usual  
> Mention of child abuse  
> Mention of parent letting child abuse happen  
> Mention of homophobia

_1959 : Jornada Del Muerto Desert, New Mexico_

 

He liked it when Mo was around. When Mo was around, Daddy didn't send him to the padded closet. The Dunker too felt better when Mo was here. Now, there was now a button on the Dunker. He could press it if it felt too scary or too dark or too cold and they would release him. Always.

 

If he came back crying, Daddy would take a step back and Mo would come and embrace him softly and whisper words. Nice words. _You did well, my boy. You’re very brave to do this for us._

 

If he came back with new things, he would be greeted with more embraces, but Daddy also gave him sweets to eat, sodas to drink, toys.

 

One day, instead of dark, smelly and damp, he found another place through his head. He found _light._ He had no other words to describe it. It was just light, like the one on the ceiling, but so much more bright, he wondered for a second if it was what the _sun_ was actually like.

 

“Mo?” he started. A little mischiveous smile on Mo’s face and the man’s hand creeping toward the delicious food-like things made him smile. Alright. He wasn’t too tired. He could practice a bit more. He summoned the image of his finding in his mind and broadcast it, closing his eyes ever so slightly. Mo’s hands returned to the pockets of his long blue coat and sat down. Mo needed that or he could fall. Daddy had fallen the other time they had tried that. Never had he seen so much sweets or even Daddy himself giving them. It was always Mo.

 

_Does it look like that for real or is it like Dr Pepper?_

Impressed. _It does look close to it._

_Does that mean I can meet Dr Pepper?_

Laughter. _I’m afraid Dr Pepper is forever out of our reach, Jesse._

_Jesse? Is that my name?_

Hesitation. Apprehension. _If you want to, it can be. But you can’t say it out loud. Not yet._

_Ok. Can I see the sun, then?_

Longing. _We’ll see, my Jesse. We’ll see._

 

_1984 : Radium Springs, New Mexico_

 

Jesse thought the worst part of the medication, was that it didn’t work.

 

Sure, his nose bleeding stopped and the headache became manageable. However, the voices persisted. It felt extremely cruel to taunt him with Hanzo Shimada’s sweet voice when the man was missing, his class empty and free for his students and his brother, a combination of aloof and pain in the ass.

 

At the end of the day, Jesse had been tasked to bring Genji Shimada to the station. The legal time for the older brother to be officially considered missing was forty-eight hours, but the disappearance of both the teacher and the students prompted the school board to start an inquiry that had made Jesse wince.

 

So Genji Shimada, looking a bit lost, was sitting near Mrs Song, looking angry and as if she wanted nothing to do with the young boy next to her.

 

Of course, when he was interrogated, the boy was irate. So much he and Mrs Song got into a shouting match and Genji unwittingly let out that his brother was queer, which only served to cement the fact that Hanzo was indeed a dangerous sexual deviant who had abducted little Miss Song to have his way with her. Words were exchanged. Hana’s mother left, slamming the doors behind her, not wanting to be associated with such disgusting _faggots_. Good riddance, Jesse thought.

 

With no clear instructions on what to do with the boy, but not wanting to accompany him to an empty home, Jesse drove to his Mom with the kid. He was still angry, that special brand of frustration at the grown up world only teenagers could muster. Alternating between languages, the boy ranted.

 

“I refuse to believe it! My brother is not… If he’s not here, maybe our family decided to take him back after all, I don’t know…” Genji continued to spit, bitterness and anger probably making deep cuts in the young boy’s heart.

 

“What do you mean?” Jesse asked, surprised. “Your brother has enemies? Would they be invested in setting him up like that?”

 

“Not exactly…” Genji muttered. “I wasn’t supposed to say that.” the boy added sheepishly.

 

“ _I’m accustomed to lay down my personal desires for the sake of my younger brother. I would give my life for him, as I would do for you. Because you're my student, an thus, my responsibility too._ ”

 

Jesse shook his head physically to ward off the voice of the older brother. He pulled over and stopped the car. He couldn’t drive and follow two conversations at the same time.

 

“Look, if you think your brother was abducted or attacked by someone who wants him harm and little Hana got caught in the middle, you gotta tell me.” Jesse told the boy.

 

Genji squirmed, clearly conflicted. Jesse pulled off his last card, laying it on thick.

 

“It’s way different to track down a sexual predator who acts alone and a gang looking to tie up loose ends. Your silence helps nobody, little guy. Least of all Hana Song and certainly not your big brother.”

 

Taking a deep breath, the boy turned his head to the window. Jesse had to strain his ears to hear his droning.

 

“In Japan, our father was the leader of a yakuza clan... That’s like a mafia, I think… Just like in The Godfather? We’re big on family and stuff… Hanzo was supposed to be the ruler when father passes, but then the clan’s enemies decided to send a man to seduce him and expose his... _Preferences_. Hanzo refused to repair his honor through marriage and I became next in line. I didn’t want to, so I started to… I don’t know, be a bad boy I guess. I fought at school. I started a dance class. I said I like both men and women to everyone who could hear even though I don’t really know, I mean, I never even kissed anyone… My father, he was always lenient with me, so it was, like… Like father waited to see if it would stick when I grew up, but then he died. I don’t know if he was killed or if he was truly sick, it was… It was a shock...”

 

Jesse realised that if Genji was turning his back to him now, it was because he was crying. He softly put his hand on the boy’s shoulder.

 

“After that, they were more insistent that I behaved as they wished, but I wouldn’t. I didn’t go to training anymore. I would spend the night at the Arcade and sneak into Love Hotels and sing at the karaoke to make sure everyone saw me and knew of the clan. Hanzo, despite being shunned, was taking care of most of the affairs for me since I was, like, thirteen… But the clan I told you, it’s a family. Some of it is not blood but they’re families we married into, people who’ve been with the clan for centuries, they got a special place, like… Like an administrative board. And they thought it was better to have a queer as leader of the clan than a useless… A useless punk I guess...”

 

Jesse let Genji all the time he needed. The boy didn’t shrug the hand away, but he took deep breaths and sniffed a bit.

 

“Anyway, they offered Hanzo a way to become the true leader of the Shimada-gumi… Gumi it means hmmm Clan, I guess? If he killed me in a duel, they would make him heir in truth, as before. Marriage and children optional. He refused and he was asked to leave. He came in the night with papers and he brought me here in the USA because he didn’t trust them not to kill me. He left someone there. Someone who was not here because of a ploy. I know he loved him because he had stars in his eyes sometimes… Like, when he came back from your first date together.”

 

Jesse’s heart leaped. Because someone beside Hanzo knew his secret orientation, but also at the idea that _he_ put stars in someone’s eyes and that someone was the tall brooding Maths teacher.

 

“He doesn’t know I know about him and you.” Genji broke down. “But… But them, going from _he likes men_ to… To _that_? I can’t even… And he’s not even here to defend himself. He’d hate it that I had to fight his battle...”

 

The contained tears became a full blown sob. Jesse made his grip firm on the boy’s shoulder and let him cry for at least ten minutes before they were back on the road.

 

Someone needed Mom’s hot chocolate.

 

*

**

*

 

Yuna Song hated everything.

She hated this broken up trailer, a far cry from her family’s little house in Kaesong.

She hated the heat of New Mexico. She hated to clean offices in Las Cruces every morning.

 

She hated her husband. She hated her family. Sometimes, she hated Hana too.

 

Hana was growing up to be as pretty as Yuna had been when she was her age. Not the puffy, fat thing she was now, teeth yellowed by cigarette, poverty and squashed dreams having bleached the shine in her hair and the stars in her eyes.

 

No, Hana looked exactly like the pretty flower she had been when she had decided to elope with Sungki, the young couple sneaking through the nearby border into South Korea. It had been the scariest thing in her life, running at night under the sound of gunfire, trying to avoid being caught in the lights coming from the miradors. She had slept through the whole bus trip to Seoul, in Sungki’s arms. On the boat, it had been the other way around. Sungki had snored and Yuna had been kept awake by the excitation, the thrill of the Dream, spending her days on the bridge, looking in the direction of the American shores.

 

 _She was going to America_. Everything her parents had fought against. The sixteen year old had been so elated to finally be rid of the old codgers.

 

And now her own daughter was fighting against her, like she did with her own mother, back then.

 

Hana and Yuna had parted with angry words and now, she was probably in the hands of a deviant man, having his way with her and she regretted it.

 

A flash of guilt went through Yuna. This man had no right to touch her. With Sungki it was different, right? He was her husband, her daughter’s father. He could do as he pleased, right?

 

Yuna looked at the ceiling of the trailer for a while. Sleep would not come. Could not come.

 

Sungki wasn’t here. Probably down in the desert shooting bottles, getting himself drunk as a skunk, as they said here. What would happen in the morning? These past few months, Hana would sneak out in the morning to see the German man. Yuna was alone when Sungki came back home, reeking of alcohol. Why had Hana left her alone every morning ?

 

Yuna laughed, hysterically for several minutes. She was a terrible human being. In fact, maybe she should simply just give up right now and save face. After all, if she just went to the desert and startled the shooters enough, they could mistake her with a goose and shoot her. Hunting accident, they’d call it. At least she wouldn’t horribly fail anyone anymore.

 

That wouldn’t bring her back, though.

 

_I’m so sorry I was such a failure._

 

Suddenly, Yuna heard a strange sound. It was coming from the oversized closet that served as Hana’s room. There was a futon in there, clothes, cosmetics the older woman knew to be either stolen or gifts from the Amari girl. Sometimes, Yuna wondered if she too was a deviant who liked her own kind, someone who would take Hana and turn her into an American monster.

 

A poster of a flying man on the door, another of two men rising their gloved hands on a podium while another, pale and looking haggard, was staring straight ahead.

 

This was Hana’s dreams.

 

The sound was coming from underneath Hana’s futon. Yuna crouched and fumbled, trying to both stay balanced and investigate the source of the sound. It came from a heavy clunky machine. A black talkie spouting static.

 

Fumbling around the unfamiliar machine, Yuna tried to find the button to turn it off, only to almost drop it when she heard a familiar voice coming from it.

 

“ _Hello? Fareeha? Lucio? Can you hear me_?”

 

Yuna’s ears hurt. Her heart felt heavy. Her eyes stung.

 

“ _I’m scared. Mr Shimada went to get food, he said to stay put._ ”

 

“Hana?” Yuna asked. “Run from him, Hana, I beg of you.” she started to say, but she wasn’t heard, her daughter’s voice low, she sounded like she was cold, shivering. Not scared, but the apprehension was there.

 

“ _I hope he comes back, I don’t want the monster to eat me. I can still hear the sound of its claws. It’s worse than when Genji tries to imitate it during the game. I… I wish I didn’t throw that fireball. Because it got me, you know. Since I rolled a natural one. It got us. If we need a Ranger, maybe Mr Shimada can come. He makes me feel safe. At least he has a face. The Demogorgon, it doesn’t have one, just… A mouth I guess..._ ”

 

“Hana?” Yuna repeated, palming the device. She remembered the littler ones the policemen used had a button they pressed before talking. Maybe it worked the same way? She found knobs and buttons and pressed the one at the top. “Hana?” she asked again, hurriedly, only remembering to release the button a few seconds after her tentative question hung in the air for a few seconds.

 

“ _Momma_ ?” Hana’s voice squeaked, surprised. “ _Momma, please come find us!_ ”

 

Relieved, Yuna pressed the button again.

 

“I’m coming to find you, I’m so sorry, I won’t let you get… It won’t happen again, I’m so sorry, my baby.” the older woman babbled, half English, half Korean.

 

“ _It’s ok, Mr Shimada is not touching me, he’s defended me. He’s like Mr Reinhardt. He didn’t touch me. Not like that, not like Pa. I swear. You have to get us, Momma.”_ Hana said. _“I… I promise I’ll behave more._ ”

 

“Where are you? I’m coming!” Yuna exclaimed, already rising up, barely feeling her knees protest under the pressure. ( _It doesn’t matter, I can’t fail again_ ). However, despite the limited space, she dared not move more. The talkie was heavy. She needed information before she got her coat and drove back to the station. She could go in her pajamas, it wasn’t a problem, as long as Hana was here, back home.

 

“ _I’m in my room. I’m hiding. But it’s not my room, somehow. It’s dark and cold and damp and… And dead too. Momma, this morning before the beast attack… I… I was bleeding. Mr Shimada says the beast is attracted by the scent of blood. I’m scared Momma. It hasn’t stopped bleeding and I think the beast’ll get me._ ”

 

Oh, Gods above, her daughter was becoming a woman _now_ and she was scared and lost with only a _deviant_ to keep her safe.

 

“It’s ok, Hana!” Yuna told her daughter, trying to soothe despite her tears. "Bleeding is going to stop, I promise. It’s ok. I’m coming for you. I’m com…”

 

Yuna let out a scream when the device in her hand crackled and sparked up. It had gone silent.

 

“Hana? _HANA!_ ”

 

*

**

*

 

Hana promised to stay put. It was good.

It took awhile to find a change of clothes for her that was unsoiled by blood and not too damp, too grey, too… _Dead_.

 

The fungus was everywhere. It clung to their skin, to their hair. Scrounging around the makeshift shooting range near Wheel Town, they found a gun. Hanzo did not dare waste ammunition to train Hana to use it properly. The noise was a problem too. He supervised her training in removing and resetting the safety of the six shooter and he told her to lift it repeatedly to get accustomed to the weight.

 

No matter what he did, he couldn’t start a fire to warm them up. When they made their expedition to the city, they hurt themselves to a literal wall made of vines and fungus, grey and black. Throbbing, oozing red. Hana started coughing a black spunk, Hanzo decided it was best to retrace their steps.

 

Not before they passed by his home. When he opened the closet, it was empty. No Storm Bow, no Dragonkind, no Sparrow.

 

Hanzo wondered if Genji was well.

 

During his examination of the field, he saw different kind of bodies and carcasses. Open, bones jutting, the blood had already blackened and coagulated. On some, the skin was still taut in the places where it was unharmed. It seemed the beast pilfered the juiciest organ, the liver, and then moved on to the rest, almost always leaving the head and legs intact, though Hanzo saw some beheaded corpses, mostly animals.

 

Every corpse the Maths teacher found was covered in the same mildewed vines, the same fungus, glowing faintly red. Hanzo let out a dejected sigh when he recognised young Angela Ziegler’s dog. She had been looking dejected all week, her remembered. Distributing tracts with the picture of her massive St Bernard, Sigrun, if he remembered well.

 

She was an extraordinary student, if a little bit awkward. This was to be expected when one was so ahead in the curriculum, she suddenly found herself surrounded by students a year older than her.

 

Hanzo sighed. The sound, in the silence of this strange place made him extremely self-conscious. He cut the sight short, repressing it and strained his ears, checking if anything was close by.

 

As the hair on the back of his neck started to stand on end, he rose and unslung his bow from his shoulders, already nocking an arrow.

 

There was a snarl. He couldn’t see from whence it came from. Everything was dark, bleak and black. He should get back to the relative safety of Wheel Town. Without the beast following him to his protégée. _What if there were two,_  he thought.

 

No, flight and survival first.

 

Hanzo had been trained to become a warrior and an assassin from age six, but still, he felt the swooshing near his ankles when he jumped out of the way of a cleaving grey arm with dark wicked claws.

 

Landing on his behind, Hanzo didn’t lose any time trying to scramble back up and sat straight enough to loose a few arrows.

 

The hiss the beast made were satisfactory enough that he jumped on his feet and ran back toward the homes.

 

He hid in a house for several agonizing minutes, waiting to hear another snarl, another hiss. He counted his arrows. He’d have to make new ones. The room on the second floor of the tiny house smelled of rot and decay like the others, but there was something to it. It felt almost as magical as the first day, when they found the bread and pastries in the trailer. A glow was trying to seep into the dark, weak, but here.

 

The smell of cherries in the summer. Hanzo shook his head when his eyes started to see pink blossoms in the corner of his eye. Focus.

  
As he left, he did not see the single feather fall softly on the bed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Medication/Drug Abuse/Addiction  
> Yuna being the homophobic bint she is still, but going at it in a way that doesn't hurt anyone  
> Masturbation

_1958, Jornada del Muerto Desert, New Mexico_

 

They wanted him to go farther, he knews. So he took his time. Because it was so scary and dangerous, what they asked. He went to the place that’s all lit up and _sunny_ , instead. Maybe if he found something interesting there, they wouldn’t force him to go back to the dark place, would they?

 

One day, when the Dunker rose and the scrawny little boy with him, Daddy was the one to welcome him back to the real world. Once the helmet was taken off and a towel was hastily wrapped around his shoulders, the other people left, hurriedly.

 

 _Jesse_ (he still wasn’t used to it, but he liked it, but it was a secret between Mo and him) looked at Daddy and his dark eyes, the scars on his face he never told anyone about.

 

“I know what you’re doing, my boy.” Daddy said, soft, but firm. “And it has to stop.”

 

 _Jesse_ wanted to lie, but he knew there was no use.

 

“Because if it takes too long, we might think our change in strategy isn’t working.” Daddy continued, suddenly crouching at eye level. “And when something doesn’t work, we throw it away. Then we start anew, usually with something that works.”

 

Daddy’s eyes looked scary and for a second, he thought he was going to call the men in white. They would take him, throw him in the padded closet.

 

No. He wouldn’t let them. He’d rather die. In fact, he knew exactly how to die.

 

The door opened suddenly and he ran toward the tall blonde man in a blue coat who had entered the room.

 

“It’s okay, baby. Everything is alright, just stop it, please, stop.”

 

He tried to wipe the blood away from Mo’s coat, fingers trembling, but ended up spreading it instead. Mo swatted his hands away, held him closer. The world stopped shaking.

 

 _Jesse_ cried.

 

*

**

*

 

It was mostly the Dunker, nowadays. He took Daddy’s warning to heart and tried to go back to the dark place.

 

The beast was here, roaming at the edges of a world in his mind. Only the connection he maintained with Mo helped.

 

_You’re doing good, Jesse. You’re doing great._

 

_For you. For Mo._

 

It was here. Looking at him. Could it look at anything without eyes? He was fascinated.

 

_Reach for him. Touch him. We have to know what it is._

 

He advanced his arm. The thing opened its mouth. Was it a mouth? It looked like a flower. A flower full of tiny white pebbles, sharpened to a point, like teeth.

 

A snarl rumbled through the creature’s chest… _And in his._ The tip of his index finger was on his arm.

 

Suddenly, there was only pain. In his head, in his chest, in his arm. _No, not his left arm. He loved his left arm, he drawed with his left arm, his favourite toy car fit best in his left hand._

 

Never had he felt so much hurt in his life. He screamed.

It screamed too. _In excitement_.

 

**PREYKILLEATCONSUMEFEASTBLOODMOREBLOODWORLDFULLOFLIFEMUSTGOTHERETOPREYKILLEATCONSUMEFEASTBLOODMOREBLOOD**

 

It wasn’t real. It was in his head. He just had to go somewhere safe. He ran.  

 

_1984, Radium Springs, New Mexico_

 

_“Don’t you dare leave me alone again.”_

 

_“I won’t. Ever. The moment I leave you is the moment you are returned to your family, I swear.”_

 

_A snort. High pitched. Had to be the Song girl._

 

Jesse feverishly swallowed pill after pill and clutched the sink, his knuckles going white as he waited for the drugs to work, if not its intended effect, at least provide the same improvements it had in the afternoon. After a few agonizing minutes, Hanzo’s voice faded in the background, but he could still hear it. They were surviving. _Survive a bit longer, please, I want to see you again_.

 

Exiting the bathroom, Jesse looked at the two older citizens in the kitchen of the Amari household.

 

Ana, Jack. As far as he could remember, they had always been in his life. He knew he had been adopted by the couple when he was around eleven, but anything before that was a blur. All he knew was Mom’s hot chocolate and Dad’s wink when he sneaked a can of Dr. Pepper to the boy behind her back.

 

The two ex-spouses were looking at each other with murderous looks.

 

When Jesse had brought the younger Shimada, he had been surprised to see that, apparently, he wasn’t the only one who thought she might be amenable to watch over children for a few days.

 

“I’m not a daycare, Jack.”

 

“I’m not asking you to be, I just want to make sure Angela is taken care of for a couple of days, that’s all.”

 

“Jesse is already bringing someone, the room is already taken… I want to make sure Fareeha and him are safe for a couple of days, that’s all.” Mom quipped back.

 

“You truly want us to speak where the kids can hear, Ana?” Morrison drawled.

 

Jesse took a deep breath.

 

“I’m going to show Genji my old room, Yemma.” he called out, making his elders snap their necks as they suddenly became aware of his presence. “I’ll fix him some hot chocolate myself, don’t trouble yourself.”

 

Gesturing to the young boy, almost a man, Jesse realised when Genji hardened his look, pursing his lips and holding the straps of his backpack in a way that showed arms. Jesse wanted to laugh at the way he stared at Mr Morrison. Posturing teenagers were too damn cute.

 

“You need your books to start playing a game and make a ruckus?” Jesse asked halfway up the stairs. “We could get them.”

 

“No, Fareeha has some of them.” Genji muttered. “And everyone has their character sheets on them anyway…”

 

“Oh, character sheets…” Jesse repeated, feigning great interest. “Sounds mighty important.”

 

Genji seemed to have forgotten some of his woes, because he started to explain the basics of this make believe game they played, rolling dice and playing characters as actors would do on a stage.

 

“Hanzo says it’s silly because dragons aren’t real…” Genji said, carefully putting his backpack next to Jesse’s old rickety desk.

 

It smelled like any room that had stayed close for nearly fifteen years would. His old floral coverlet was still in place, as well as his toy cars, carefully put on the highest shelf. His favourite one, whose red paint was flaking, made him flex his left hand. Jesse felt his nose itch as he tore his gaze from them.

 

“You might wanna open the window a bit.” he said to the boy. “And the door don’t lock properly, so be sure to stay decently dressed, even to sleep… Where is the damn extra blanket...”

 

“Thank you, Sheriff McCree.” the teenager exclaimed, suddenly, interrupting the older man’s thoughts.

 

“You’re welcome, lad.” Jesse answered, tipping his hat.

 

He moved the door in its semi closed position behind him and went for his handkerchief. Was he bleeding again? He just thought about his old toy cars, nothing else. No dead cats, no crushed cans of coke, no salty pools of water, nothing, he didn’t think about anything.

 

The noise was still a fading mush in his head as Jesse tried, unsuccessfully to wipe his bleeding nose. He wondered if not hearing them clearly actually made the whole ordeal worse. He couldn’t place them. He couldn’t make out the words anymore and yet, they were still here, pressing around his head, entering without meaning to.

 

“My head ain’t a damn freeway.” Jesse mumbled.

 

“ _Jesse, are you alright?_ ” he heard a voice at his back, muffled and contorted, as if he was hearing it twice at the same time.

 

Jesse turned around - _Hanzo?._ Ready to jump in his arms, press his face in the crook of his neck.   


She was almost as tall as he, but young Fareeha was not the dark brooding Japanese Maths teacher. When had she shot up like this? Damn teenagers had no right to grow up so fast.

 

“Do you want to lay down a bit?” his sister asked. “You look pale... Is that blood?”

 

“Hey, don’t worry about this, Pharah…” Jesse started, however he cut himself short when he saw the other teenager behind Fareeha.

 

Angela Ziegler’s eyes were shining with golden light. A familiar light. He resisted the urge to shake his head and turned around, leaving the house to try and get some drug induced sleep.

 

*

**

*

 

“I AM NOT A DAY CARE! FAREEHA ZINEB AMARI! YOU COME DOWNSTAIRS THIS INSTANT!”

 

“LUCIO, COME UP QUICK, ANGELA IS OUR CLERIC NOW!”

 

“FUCK YEAH!”

 

“LANGUAGE!”

 

Genji liked the Amari household a lot. Mrs Amari was kind and, with her daughter, they had shouting matches from anywhere they could be on the house. She also made the best hot chocolate in the world, or so did Sheriff McCree. The one he made, Genji was still savouring it but the Sheriff had complained about how his Mamma’s was best and better looking too.

 

Genji didn’t mind. He was still worried, angry and, if he had to be honest, a little bit of exhaustion from going from shouting to crying was starting to treacherously creep in his body. He blamed the cocoa.

 

“So, what’s this rescue thing you’ve been telling me about?” Lucio asked as soon as the door was closed.

 

They had decided to host the meeting in Fareeha’s room. It was bigger than Sheriff McCree’s old room and the role playing materials were already there, as well as the talkies.

 

Also, Fareeha didn’t have a dusty floral bedroom, but one filled with her favourite band’s posters and a much more fashionable blue and gold bedspread. The door also closed and locked properly, Genji wondered why the Amari and the Sheriff had not repaired such a flimsy door when the rest of the house was immaculate and kept in good shape.

 

“It’s Angela.” Genji answered.

 

The young girl was fascinating. She was in ninth grade with them all, but Genji knew she was older than fourteen because he had always thought her beautiful like a grown woman when they both sat in Hanzo’s Mathematics class.

 

She was tall, taller than he was, her long blonde hair looked like spun gold, her big blue eyes were blue like the sky on a clear winter day and she had beautiful pink lips that made Genji a bit bothered some nights when he tried to hard to fall asleep.

 

Even now he realised he was looking at her as he explained her plan.

 

“She says her dad… Who is apparently also the Sheriff’s dad? Is that right?” Genji asked.

 

Angela nodded and Fareeha explained :

 

“Yes. Mom and Mo are divorced now, but they had adopted Jesse a long time ago, obviously.” she shrugged.

 

“Right.” Genji acknowledged trying to get back to where he thought he was in his own story. “Apparently, Mrs Morrison is not just the pharmacist, he used to work... for the government!” he closes his sentence, emphasizing the last word.

 

Fareeha’s eyes widened as he expected, but Lucio’s narrowed.

 

“The government? What’s it got to do with Hana and Mr Shimada being abducted?” the young black boy asked.

 

“I think…” Angela started, stumbling on words. “No… I know my dad knows something. I know they weren’t taken, that’s for sure. Just... “

 

Angela’s features twisted in an ugly scowl as she tried to find the words to explain to them. Her eyes falling on the board they had set up for the game, they suddenly lit up with the solution.

 

She picked each of the figurine and placed them carefully on the table, Then took the now cleared cardboard and turned it upside down.

 

Picking three figurines, she placed them on the dark surface of the map of the world now turned around on itself. Genji shivered when she placed Hana’s barbarian character and the Demogorgon on it and between them, one of Fareeha’s spare figurines of a ranger holding a bow, accompanied by a flying snake pet. _Hanzo_.

 

“I don’t know a lot but… But I know this: they’re alive.” Angela said sounding distressed. “No one took them, but… But there’s a monster stalking them.” Her voice broke. “I wasn’t supposed to listen, if my dad finds out… Finds out I told you… Anyone...”

 

Her lips were quivering. Genji’s hand shot instinctively to cover hers.

 

“Your dad won’t find out!” he told her, feeling his heart squeeze. “We won’t tell anything.”

 

Angela shook her head, acknowledging Genji’s support. Feeling his cheeks turn red, he suddenly removed his hand gave her a small bow before remembering this was a Japanese thing and she probably didn’t know what it meant. _Yoroshiku onegaishimasu_ , he thought, feeling like he’d like to prepare her miso soup.

 

“Thank you, Genji.” Angela said with a weak smile.

 

“What are we doing now?” Fareeha asked. “I don’t really understand. Is there a monster in town? It sounds dangerous...”

 

“They’re not in the town. Or rather they are, but they are not.” Angela told them, twisting her fingers. “I’m not supposed to tell, but… I don’t want Mr Shimada to be hurt.”

 

“Me neither.” Genji told Angela.

 

“Of course.” the girl answered, her smile wide and revealing pearly teeth.

 

Genji made a mental note to ask Hanzo if he was in love before remembering he was missing and considered a child molester. It made his smile slide despite himself.

 

“We’ll find Mister Shimada.” Angela told Genji with a voice so light and angelic, he felt the hope wash over him and erase all his worry. “And Hana!” she added, looking at Lucio and Fareeha in the eyes.

 

Fareeha had a determined look, Lucio gave them another look of disbelief mixed with resignation.

 

Their features softened though, carrying a new light of hope.

 

The children did not play, though Genji did create Angela’s Cleric character earlier. instead, they planned a whole different kind of adventure.

 

*

**

*

  
  


Jesse was trying to retain the last shreds of his sanity. He had a corpse of what appeared to be a raped thirteen years old girl on a slab at Las Cruces’ morgue, a frantic mother insisting the disfigured body, which sported the exact same birthmark her husband had recognised with a laugh that made Jesse want to bash his head in a wall, _was not her dead daughter_.

 

“You need to understand me!” Mrs Song implored, making Jesse’s heart squeeze. “It was her voice! I know what I said, but she is out here! Alive! And I believe her when she says the man hasn’t touched her too.”

 

 _I believe it too._ Jesse thought as he heard Hana Song’s voice in his head, telling a story about how she had been scared that morning, felt anger and shame, especially when her mother turned her back to her own daughter in her hour of need and hid herself in her room to let a teenager in her charge take the brunt of her husband’s abuse.

 

“Sheriff McCree, please! I have to save her this time! I can’t fail anymore! She can’t be dead, she isn’t dead. I heard her voice!” the woman, disheveled, eyes blood shot cried.

 

Her speech turned into incomprehensible Korean mixed with English words, mostly his name. Jesse, feeling tears come to his eyes when Hanzo’s voice turned hurried by stress in his ear, took Mrs Song into his arms in turn and hushed her, rocking her like he would Fareeha sometimes.

 

“I… I checked everywhere.” Mrs Song finally said. “I took all the savings I had, I bought manuals for those… Walkies? I bought one. Sungki didn’t… He didn’t even notice, he just… But Hana’s gone and I… Sometimes I think it’s like they said. That I’m mad because of grief, but...”

 

Mrs Song gestured vaguely at the window behind which the coroner was shutting the drawer containing “Hana’s” remains back in place.

 

“It was her voice, I’m sure.” she whispered, mumbling other things under her breath in her native tongue.

 

He ended up driving her to Wheel Town, since Mr Song had already taken the car to wherever without waiting for her. He had turned off the radio with baited breath, willing the meds to work.

 

Of course it didn’t. His upper lip was moist already, the coppery taste and smell making him want to scream. Mrs Song cried some more.

 

Hana and Hanzo were running, that was for sure. Then there was a snap. Mrs Song called her daughter’s name in the talkie and it made Jesse’s ear ring some more.

 

_Make it stop, please, Daddy, make it stop!_

 

**PREYKILLEATCONSUMEFEASTBLOODMOREBLOODWORLDFULLOFLIFEMUSTGOTHERETOPREYKILLEATCONSUMEFEASTBLOODMOREBLOOD**

 

The car disappeared. The grieving mother disappeared.

 

There was only the water, the dunker. Claustrophobia gripped at him, pressing on all sides so hard he couldn’t even try to remember which way was up and which way was down. Gone was the sun warming his face, he was just drowning and running behind a tall man with a bow and a small girl with a gun, their black hair flying behind them like two banners. The shriek behind him threatened to swallow him, so he ran faster.

 

He knew that monster.

 

He also knew the two black haired runners were headed to a dead end.

 

He felt himself yell, his mouth move, his vocal cords pinch, however no sound came out of his throat.

 

It felt like an eternity. Seeing them stop on their tracks, turn back, weapons raised. He instinctively knew they weren’t seeing him. They saw only the beast.

 

When Jesse came to, his chest hurt as if the bullets had actually crossed his chest on their way to the beast’s body.

 

He had heard its hiss. It was hurt. He had heard its thoughts.

 

**Come. Come to Daddy.**

 

Jesse growled, licked his lips and opened the window and spat outside the car. Feverish, he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Puking in front of a grieving mother wasn’t the best course of action.

 

Mo couldn’t do shit for his ass. He was going to die from these migraines, his brain fried like Mom’s _zlabiyya_.

 

“Sherif…” a little voice next to him asked. “Did you…”

 

The woman looked at the radio, then to the man. Then from the man back to the radio.

 

Jesse remembered where they were. On they way back to Radium Springs. It was only a mile away. Las Cruces morgue was left behind an hour ago. The call from the boss saying they had found the girl’s body. The fuss. The dysfunctional family.

 

No grey moss-like fungus, no purple vines trying to choke the life out of the very air he breathed… Faces. Mrs Song had a face. Complete with eyes, nose and… And a mouth, yeah.

 

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” he growled willing himself to get a grip as he turned the engine of the police car back on.

 

At least, he thought as he tried not to let his head fall on the steering wheel, they had turned left.

 

*

**

*

 

Yuna didn’t have much in way of food today. She had stolen all the money she could from Sungki and pooled it with Reinhardt’s own savings to buy new talkies. She swore this lonely man was more of a parent than any of the other dregs of Wheel Town. When she ate his exotic pastries, she understood why Hana came to visit him so often. She should cook again. Maybe if she managed to remember her own mother’s _matang_ recipe… Yes… She’d try and do that.

 

The Sheriff had kept on wiping the blood dripping from his nose like a leaky faucet during the whole drive from Las Cruces. Should be up and about at all? She wondered how she had heard his voice from the radio when he had passed out and convulsed just next to her on his seat. She refused for now to think the nose bleeding and the radio thing was related, so she ignored it.

 

The only thing that mattered was how her daughter was alive and the queer teacher was helping her. A queer man and an old celibate veteran were being more responsible parents to her daughter than she or Sungki ever were. And people called her mad because she refused to recognise some meat on a slab as her daughter? This was not her transgression. This was not her crime.

 

Yuna bit in another pastry with rage. She was going to make up for it all. She was bringing Hana back home. For that, she would need the Sheriff.

 

The drive to Wheel Town had been laborious. It was obvious the man was completely exhausted, body and soul. The way he had chugged medicine like jelly beans and tried to keep them down had scared her. It was medicine, it was supposed to be good, right? Then why was he not feeling better? His complexion had turned from the attractive tan to grey and ashen, his eyes were red and he was bleeding from the nose. He barely looked like himself and rather like an abnormally tall child, lost and looking for his parents.

 

Yuna wished she was a doctor for a moment. Actually, this was a good idea. She stored it for later.

 

Once-Knight Reinhardt was happy to help the man get out of his car and support him all the way to his own trailer. Yuna had fetched the equipment she had hidden in Bilal’s trailer so her time at Reinhardt wasn’t lost and here they were, waiting until the Sheriff woke up from the impromptu nap he was taking after the long drive from the big city and…

 

Well, she said she wouldn’t think too much about it, but she would have to ask. She needed the Sheriff to bring Hana back, she was certain of it.

 

So like every night for two full weeks, Yuna toyed with the third walkie she bought (or rather, had Hana’s friends steal on her behalf) while Reinhardt made a new larger board for Hana to leave messages.

 

The sheriff snored and it didn’t sound wet. Good.

 

“I think we have a good spacing now, Miss Baek.” the tall German man said as he presented the new plank adorned with Christmas lights. He had already engraved the letters and painted the crevices with the black paint.

 

“Thank you.” Yuna acknowledged.

 

She didn’t really know, but she felt somewhat relieved whenever he called her by her maiden name. Like a fresh start. It gave her hope, she thought. Hope that soon, Hana would be back home and maybe, just maybe, her home would be elsewhere. Maybe she could save some money, take a class and try to get a better job, better paid.Leaving Sungki behind. Yes, Yuna thought as she fiddled with the buttons, thinking about nurses going from bed to bed, taking care of patients.

 

The plan was starting to take form. If only she could get this walkie to work for more than just a second!

 

_“Hanzo?”_

 

Yuna lifted her head to check if the Sheriff was still asleep. He was. Similarly, Reinhardt was hovering over the man, checking his head for signs of fever. Shrugging, he returned to Yuna.

 

_“Hanzo, love… Is that you?”_

 

Yuna was certain now that this was the Sheriff’s voice coming from the talkie in a soft whisper, as if he couldn’t believe what he saw.

 

_“Jesse? How…”_

 

The other voice had the same softness to it. Incredulous… Tender.

 

_“I… I don’t know. I haven’t felt like this since I was a lad. I… Are you alright? Little Hana too?”_

 

_“We’re making do. Small miracles happen. Pastries in this Reinhardt’s trailer… We managed to tell Reinhardt to keep baking them… Sometimes, we hear them through Hana’s talkie… We also found water at Morrison’s drugstore… Safe shelter at your mother’s place, the only room that wasn’t locked. Somehow the beast can’t access it easily...”_

 

_“Probably my own room. I didn’t like closed spaces as a yung’un. So you have food? Mrs Song isn’t delusional then...”_

 

_“What do you mean?”_

 

_“They’re blaming you for abducting the girl. Brought in a fake body. Report said she was raped several times over.”_

 

There was a long weary sigh, very different from the soft breaths of the two men.

 

Yuna looked up to Reinhardt. The man was listening intently. The device was starting to heat up in Yuna’s hands.

 

_“I… Hanzo… I’m glad you’re safe. I’ll be coming to get you, both of you. Clear your name.”_

 

_“The damage is done. Soon, they will dig into my history… My family… They will probably advertise… My inclinations.”_

 

_“Actually… Your little brother slipped up already. He was angry when he heard the first accusations… Don’t worry, he’s well, he’s staying at my mom’s.”_

 

_“I am… I am in your debt, Sheriff.”_

 

_“Well, drop the Sheriff, stay alive enough for that third date and we’ll call it even.”_

 

_“Jesse?”_

 

_“Yeah, sugar?”_

 

_“Are you real?”_

 

Yuna felt her heart squeeze when the queer teacher’s voice became as fragile as cigarette paper, breaking, as if he was on the brink of tears. As if he was actually crying.

 

_“Yeah I’m real. And I promise I’ll get all y’all out of that fucking place. I promise, love!”_

 

_“I’m… I’m taking care of her, but she’s so scared and I… I have to try and look like I know what I’m doing so she doesn’t freak out, but… I don’t know if we’re going to make it, every time it comes I… It doesn’t have a face, Jesse, I…”_

 

_“Hush… Hush… You’re gonna wake the little one. Hush baby, I got you...”_

 

_“You’re warm. It’s so cold in here! I miss you so much!”_

 

_“I’m coming to get you. We’ll save Hana, then I’ll treat you to diner. My mama’s pie and hot chocolate. Then I’ll kiss it all away.”_

 

The teacher snorted. There was a sound. Flesh hitting flesh. It made Yuna think of two mouths meeting in a hungry make out session, hands wandering underneath shirts and pants, below the belt.

 

She hardly felt the walkie sputter and die in her hands. Numb, she let Reinhardt rub the cool paste on her stinging fingers as the Sheriff stirred in his sleep.

 

Fucking faggots had to make her and the other regular folk look bad again.

  
She’ll show them how better she is. She’ll save her girl, get her ass into a class and get a job as good as teaching, as good as law enforcement. She’ll save her daughter. Then she’ll rise above them so hard and fast she would reach the skies and burn like a shooting star.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this ends on Yuna being a bitch, but I promise there's a reason.


End file.
